


Jell-O Shots

by melissfiction



Category: Solar Opposites
Genre: Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Jell-O shots, Kissing, M/M, One-Shot, Romance, Some angst, first day of Earth, first time alcohol, first time kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissfiction/pseuds/melissfiction
Summary: The first time Korvo tried alcohol, it was in a pink Jell-O shot, with Terry. Many first times were traced back to Terry, but this particular moment was a celebration of their new home on Earth.
Relationships: Korvotron "Korvo"/Terry (Solar Opposites)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Jell-O Shots

**Author's Note:**

> Trampoline-o-Lizer: ray gun that shoots out trampolines 
> 
> The vodka they're drinking is Absolut vodka in case you're wondering.

The first time Korvo tried alcohol, it was in a pink Jell-O shot, with Terry. Many first times were traced back to Terry, but this particular moment was a celebration of their new home on Earth. Temporary, of course—Korvo estimated they’d be gone in a couple short weeks of restocking their resources, repairing the engine, and relaxing before they were off into the cosmos to find a more suitable planet to terraform. After a long day of convincing the realtor that yes, they came in peace and no, they didn’t want to be taken to their species’ leader, and also yes, they’d like to purchase the house they had just crashed into, Terry was insistent on commemorating the victory with an oddly familiar browse through the alcohol aisle. 

Their house had no furniture, besides the trampolines made by Terry’s Trampoline-o-Lizer that were made into makeshift chairs, tables, and beds for the replicants sleeping upstairs. Terry had given Korvo hell for that. For months, Korvo lamented that of all the ray guns money could buy on their technologically advanced planet, Terry thought a _Trampoline-o-Lizer_ was adequate for their journey into the unknown. It was Terry’s favorite ray gun. He swore that the Trampoline-o-Lizer saved his life on multiple occasions and spun colorful tales to the naive replicants of him performing miracles of Shlorpian athleticism as he ran away from “bad guys”. Now, the only “bad guy” the Trampoline-o-Lizer gave him an escape from was the cruel, humiliating fate of having to sit on the cold floor. 

They sat beside each other on a trampoline chair at a larger trampoline table. Korvo eyed the frosted glass bottle filled with clear liquid, already halfway empty. Terry’s acquaintance with the insidious human substance was questionable. “What is this called, again?” Korvo asked. The human’s “English” alphabet was gibberish to Korvo. The Shlorpian’s writing system more closely resembled the alphabet humans called “Korean”. Terry had no problem identifying the compound despite the language barrier. 

“Vodka,” Terry answered, as he sliced the pink Jell-O into squares. Pink flavor was universally the best, no matter what it was supposed to imitate. It could be placebo, a pretty color to mask the fact that all the artificial flavors were the same, but Terry wouldn’t care. Pink was his favorite color, after all; it was the color of his gemstone. 

Korvo uncapped the bottle and used his hand to waft the aroma towards his olfactory receptors. “Some kind of ethanol solution?” 

“Correct,” Terry answered. “You know we had this on Shlorp, right?” 

Korvo frowned. “No we didn’t.” The blazing glory of Shlorp was fresh in his mind, in full technicolor. “Not where I’m from, anyway.” 

Terry didn’t bring up that they were from the same sector, the same graduating class, and had three of the same classes their senior year. He didn’t expect a satisfying response from Korvo, no spark of recognition followed by nostalgic reminiscence. It was a blessing in disguise that Korvo didn’t remember him. It was a fresh start. “Where I’m from, this is as bountiful as water.” He scooped a jiggling, pink, translucent cube on a plastic spoon and nudged it at Korvo’s face. “Bon appétit!” 

Korvo glared at the pink gloop. “Do I just… swallow it? Do I chew?” 

Terry tried his best to withhold his laughter. It was obvious that Korvo was the more alien of either of them. He was guessing that Korvo had never gotten wasted before, probably wasn’t even familiar with the slang. Street smarts won over book smarts sometimes. “I like to savor the things I consume. The way I do it, I swish it around like mouthwash and let it melt before I swallow.” 

He was surprised that Korvo merely opened his mouth and let himself be spoon-fed instead of making a great show of taking the spoon from his hand and feeding himself. He watched Korvp tentatively chew a bit, swish the Jell-O around, then make a face. The distinct bite of vodka cut through the saccharine fruitiness sharply. 

“Spitters are quitters,” Terry teased. 

Korvo swallowed. He could still taste the sweetness at the back of his throat. “That’s an interesting taste palette.” 

“Oh, it gets _better,_ ” Terry promised. He took another sip from the frosted glass bottle and chased it with a scoop of Jell-O. Korvo made a face of mild disgust at the fact that Terry hadn’t hesitated to use the same spoon. The second plastic spoon laid neglected at the corner of the white dish. Terry guessed that Korvo was unfamiliar with spit swapping, too. “Indirect kiss,” he joked. He articulated the point with a long lick up the spoon, on both sides, to slobber clean any leftovers. His gaze stayed steady on Korvo’s expression, but whatever Korvo’s exact thoughts were, Terry couldn’t quite decipher. He was starting to have trouble keeping his eyes focused. There it was, the seductive plummeting of inhibitions he had missed so dearly. 

He tried his luck at feeding Korvo another wobbly cube and was surprised, again, that Korvo accepted it without fuss. Korvo let his tongue peruse its gelatinous surroundings briefly, then swallowed. He tasted more Jell-O than vodka that time. Terry served himself another pink scoop and took his time licking the spoon clean again. 

Korvo tried not to stare too much at the wet, pink muscle lapping up the shiny convex plastic. He shifted his attention a few centimeters up, at Terry’s eyes, which were clearly looking through him and not at him. “What’s the point of consuming this ‘vodka’?” 

Terry’s ever-present smile curled further up. “Don’t you know? It’s a truth serum.” He slid the frosted glass bottle towards Korvo, across the black nylon, daringly. It was another fantastic fable of his, but the pleasure was in telling it, not being believed. If the world revolved around what was realistic, Terry wouldn’t care to live in it. “Every dose brings you closer to spilling your deepest, darkest desires.” 

Korvo felt like a grade schooler all over again, being peer-pressured into putting a whoopee cushion under the teacher’s seat. This time, there were no adults around to send them to detention. He had grown up and filled the role with all of the power and none of the responsibility. They were on a new planet with a new government. The humans called their country “the land of the free”. They obviously weren’t referring to their economic system; it was free will they boasted. He remembered the history channel mentioning something about a document dedicated to free will, “the Declaration of Independence”. Humans were confident, Korvo would give them that. 

He took the dare. He took an arrogant drink of the ethanol solution, hoping it would rectify his unresolved dissatisfaction with always obediently sticking to the rules, but no, the liquid tasted worse raw than encased in pink Jell-O and he gagged. “That’s awful!” he cried. 

Terry nodded. He offered Korvo another spoonful of pink Jell-O, which Korvo accepted gratefully. “Yeah, truth hurts, right?” 

Korvo rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to be inebriated to know the truth.” 

“Really?” Terry challenged. “Alright then, tell me about yourself.” 

Korvo let out a small laugh at that. “What’s there to know?” 

He wore an air of transparency to distance himself from genuine connection, but Terry could see through it. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“I don’t have one.” 

Terry narrowed his eyes at him. He should have expected a lackluster response from a lackluster person. Still, he already had his intents set on coloring Korvo in. “Mine is pink. I just think it’s really pretty.” He fed Korvo another spoonful of Jell-O. He hoped that being the first to open up would lower Korvo’s guard. If not, there was still plenty of vodka and Jell-O left. “What are some of your fears?” 

“That escalated quickly.” 

Terry shrugged. “Just making conversation. I’m scared of going into a coma and forgetting everyone I care about.” He popped the spoon into his mouth and sucked on it like a lollipop. 

Korvo considered that he was supposed to be washed over by a wave of Pathos and lay a sympathetic hand on Terry’s shoulder to assuage his fear. He couldn’t give two flying fucks, though. “Everyone you care about is dead.” There were plenty more realistic fears to cower from and Terry had instead chosen the most irreverent worry. It was the Trampoline-o-Lizer all over again. 

Korvo wasn’t the only one who had grown a few calluses. Terry brushed off his evacuation partner’s cruel words like sand off his toes. “Not everyone.” 

There was something Delphic in Terry’s response that sent a cold chill down Korvo’s back. Suddenly, Korvo decided that he couldn’t be sober for this. He grimaced as he took a cautious sip of the vodka, trying his best not to taste the liquid too much on its way down. The intoxication hit him hard. His face flushed exothermic. Despite the unsightly crash-landing into the roof that gave the entire house a draft incurable by the central heating system, Korvo felt as if he were in a steam room. The dizziness persuaded him into unbuttoning the top few buttons of his robe. 

“If I had to pick a fear, it’d be humans.” 

“Because you’re xenophobic?” 

Korvo resented that implication but more so resented his own gaffe. “Because they’re barbarians. They’re so used to ‘freedom’ and ‘independence’ and ‘non-authoritarian governments’. It’s impractical, it’s unethical, it’s—” 

“—different?” Terry finished. 

Korvo’s ever-present frown turned further downwards. He resigned to his xenophobia. It was a defense mechanism that could one day save them. “I see, in every one of them, this great capacity for evil. The social contract for peace and order is held by a mere thread.” His palms got clammy just thinking about it, or maybe the sweat was just from the alcohol. “I-It just takes one intrusive thought, one deranged maniac, and then society collapses.” 

Terry tried to imagine it, a tumultuous revolution with the heads of the world leaders on silver platters and utter chaos reigning the streets, but the best he could produce in his mind was a crayon drawing of yellow, red, and orange scribbles over graphite rectangle buildings and a green lizard monster stomping all over ant citizens. The fear of a society collapsing was funny coming from a Shlorpian whose entire civilization had been blown to bits mere months ago. It seemed hypocritical to look down on an overpopulated planet when their own species was frequently endangered because of the Shlorpian planetary cycle model: colonize, destroy, repeat. He supposed he could relate to Korvo’s most abstract fear of disorder in an entropic universe. “How do you know the deranged maniac isn’t you or me?” 

Korvo thought his quick wit would have an answer prepared, but his hesitation spiraled into overthinking and he realized that, for once, Terry was right. In the worst way possible. The Shlorpian government wasn’t around to punish them, but it also wasn’t around to protect them. “It’s certainly not _me._ ” 

“Not me, either.” 

Korvo hoped there was a grain of nonfiction in Terry calling vodka a “truth serum”. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?” 

“Your birthday?” 

Before Korvo answered, he took another burning swill of vodka. It was harder to taste. He felt his body become pleasantly numb, like he was floating, almost pneumatic. “It’s already passed.” 

“I still wanna know it,” Terry insisted, “along with a hint of what you might want as a gift?” 

“That’s not necessary. I don’t want anything.” 

Terry didn’t miss how blatantly Korvo was dodging the question. The observation led to a eureka realization: Korvo didn’t know his own birthday. It was often the case with progenitors who left their replicants to be wards of the state. “Well, since you won’t tell me your birthday, I’ll call today your birthday.” 

“Go ahead, I don’t care.” Korvo discovered Terry had lied about the vodka being truth serum; he was thoroughly drunk and shamelessly lying. 

“Then, that makes this your birthday cake,” Terry said, gesturing to the dish of Jell-O. He offered another spoonful to Korvo. “Make a wish!” 

“You’re supposed to do that with candles.” 

“Then, pretend you’re eating a candle.” 

Korvo laughed at that—a real, rich laugh elicited by Terry’s own pure hilarity and not a condescending symptom of dry sarcasm. Korvo didn’t laugh like that often, but Terry wanted to savor it like a mouthful of pink Jell-O. He wanted to taste Korvo’s laugh in his mouth, unravel the flavor, deliquesce into Korvo’s summer heat like there was nothing better to do. And so, Korvo was fed his “candle”. He made his wish to deaf deities, gift wrapped in a bluff with a bright red bow of hope on top. 

“What’d you wish for?” Terry asked, with the giddiness of someone who was too indulged in the fantasy. 

“If I tell you, my wish won’t come true.” 

Terry tsked him. “That’s why you wish for what you don’t want.” Reverse was his favorite mode of psychology. 

Korvo humored Terry. Whatever game they were playing, Terry was clearly the author of its rule book. “I wish for the end of the world. I want a big black hole to suck our galaxy in, and I want to be sucked in, too. I want eternal darkness in a void that doesn’t echo back when I shout in it. I want to be unloved and alone and miserable until my particles are finally released as energy into the black.” Another sip of vodka for him. Another grain of truth buried over with irony. 

“I’ll drink to that!” 

Terry’s fingers brushed against Korvo’s as he was passed the bottle. He eagerly chugged for a few seconds, unashamed of the alcohol sloppily dribbling down his face and into the V of his robe, already opened. He thought he looked cooler that way. Korvo had to agree. Terry was practically glowing under the harsh glare of the kitchen fluorescent lights. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Terry hissed, his voice low and breathy and raspy and wincing from the burning at the back of his throat. He was too desensitized to be nauseated. He passed the bottle back to Korvo. “You can finish it off, birthday boy. I’ve already passed my limit.” He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and tore open a few more buttons. Whatever season it was on Earth, it was definitely not the cold one—not in their kitchen, anyway. He was burning up like he was running a fever, and he sure would call himself sick. It had to be illness that bewitched his senses, because it just wasn’t healthy how obsessed he was with pulling Korvo deeper, 

deeper, 

_deeper_

into debauchery with him. Darkness might be a wish he could grant. He was delighted to see Korvo swallow down more of the earthly poison and didn’t hesitate to feed him another spoonful of pink Jell-O. He wasn’t sure how long the nights lasted on their new planet, but he hoped it would last just long enough for him to finish his interrogation. There were still many variables in Korvo’s life Terry had yet to solve for. It was a math he could get behind. 

“Have you ever been in _love?_ ” Terry let his tone lilt up cheerfully on the last word. 

Korvo wasn’t a cheerful person, though. “No. Next question.” 

Terry was reluctant to let the topic slide away so easily. “I’ve been in love.” He didn’t want to delve into the details. It would only bring the night down and Korvo already did a good enough job at that. “You should try it, some time.” 

Korvo shrunk in on himself. “What’s it like?” he asked shyly. For a second, he was freed from his hubris. He was a genius, genius enough to claim the title as the smartest Shlorpian in the galaxy amongst a couple hundred other possible competitors, and genius enough to realize that Terry knew of wonders he could never fathom. He could hardly attain stable satisfaction while Terry, the fool next to him, seemed to find joy at every turn. Even if it was a lie, he wanted to hear it. The pleasure was in listening to it, and maybe if he listened enough, he could believe it. 

Terry smiled. “Why don’t you find out?” 

“I—” 

Whatever excuse Korvo was trying to find, it was forever lost in the closed gap between their mouths. He couldn’t think. He could hardly breathe. But he felt Terry’s hot-blooded hand caressing his face and tasted ambrosial pinkness on Terry’s tongue and smelled the fragrance of a brewery intermingling in both of their breaths. Terry’s running gag about his birthday was a prophecy, all along. Within Terry’s loving touch, he was born again. Korvo felt hotter and hotter and swore he was a phoenix bursting into flames, finding his reincarnation within the ashes and embers. Korvo kissed Terry deeper and let himself forget up from down. He was begging the gods, _What matters besides this?_ , and the only solution was in the lack of millimeters between them. 

Terry was the one to pull Korvo in and he was also the one to pull away. 

“Happy birthday, Korvo.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by me making pink Jell-O shots for myself a few days ago! Well, it was more like a casserole dish of vodka-mixed Jell-O that I ate by myself in my room, but it sure did the job. I wanna try to write more one-shots because I have a bad habit of starting way too many multi-chapter fics lol. 
> 
> As always, SMASH that Kudos button and comment below what you liked! What stood out to you? Is there a certain line you really appreciated? Do you just love reading about the bois kissing their homies goodnight? Let me know! <3


End file.
